


take my hand and pull me close

by demonglass



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff, Han Jisung | Han is Whipped, M/M, everyone is a clown, i mean this is basically crack, kissin, rated t for the most excessive swearing ever, seungmin is lowkey whipped too hes just in denial for a sec, seungmin is the cutest & if u disagree the walmart parking lot is open for fighting, specifically discounted chicken, the times seungmin pushes him away are not at all angsty, there is much discussion of chicken, theyre just having a good time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-08 04:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19863538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonglass/pseuds/demonglass
Summary: Five times Seungmin pushes Jisung away and one time he pulls him closer.





	take my hand and pull me close

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thenationsrapper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenationsrapper/gifts).



> ayyyye after a good month and half i finally finished this! i honestly had so much fun writing is and i rlly hope it's as much fun to read! if anyone's curious abt the 'soundtrack' just lmk & I'll add the songs that i wrote each part to in the end note,, enjoy!

1\. Jisung is still two minutes out from the bus stop when the rain starts. At first it’s only a drizzle, the sky spitting lightly and misting through the air, but when Jisung picks up the pace to try and beat the oncoming storm, the storm picks up as well. Jisung rounds a corner speed walking, the pavement turning dark under his feet as water spills onto it in small splotches. He passes the tall old tree that tells him he’s only a minute away now at a jog, fat droplets slapping him across the face. As the small bus shelter comes into view, he’s full on booking it, and the dips in the street are already filling with puddles as the rain falls in sheets. 

Jisung pushes a little bit faster until he’s just paces away from the shelter and realizes there’s already someone hiding from the rain inside. His heart plummets to his feat because whoever designed the shelter clearly _hated_ everyone in town and didn’t want more than one person to be able to fit comfortably under the clear plexiglass roof. Nevertheless, he soldiers on because the rain is fucking _cold_ , dammit, and he’d rather be half-soaked and uncomfortably close to some stranger than stand fully in the rain and wait for his bus. Except as he skids to a stop in front of the shelter, he realizes it isn’t a stranger at all. 

“Seungmin!” He cheers as he pushes all the way into the shelter, until he’s right up against said boy. Until they’re so close Jisung can feel Seungmin’s breath on his cheeks (kinda gross, he won’t lie) and can see _just_ how much his eyes widen at the sudden proximity. No reason to stand even a little bit in the rain now, is there?

“Jisung!” Seungmin sputters, hands coming up to press lightly against Jisung’s chest even as Jisung’s own latch onto the straps of Seungmin’s backpack. “You’re all wet.”

Jisung nods. This much is obvious. 

“You’re getting _me_ wet,” Seungmin continues, the pressure of his hands against Jisung increasing as he tries to nudge him away.

Jisung digs in his heels, tightens his grip on Seungmin’s backpack straps, and nods again. “Yeah. Sorry, there’s just not that much space. It’s a necessary evil.”

“Is it, though? Is it _really_?” Seungmin asks through now gritted teeth, still trying valiantly to push Jisung away.

Jisung plasters his best shit eating grin onto his face. “You bet your bottom fucking dollar it is. I’m not going back out in _that_.” He throws his head back towards the downpour in lieu of pointing. 

“I’m sure another minute or two wouldn’t kill you.” A forced sweetness fills Seungmin’s voice and Jisung grins wider even as the other boy manages to push him back an inch, dangerously close to the rain.

“I beg to differ.” Jisung tugs the straps of Seungmin’s bag and Seungmin stumbles forward towards him, his eyes widening for a moment before he regains his composure. 

“Then beg,” he says cooly, but he steps back until he hits the wall of the shelter. And, much to his dismay, Jisung crowds him once more.

“I’d be happy to,” Jisung answers, shooting Seungmin a _look_ , cheeky and more than a little daring. He knows Seungmin could probably shove him out into the rain if he _really_ wanted to. Will he, is the question though. 

Seungmin’s cheeks flush and he sputters out a weak _“gross,”_ glaring daggers into Jisung’s smug face. The pressure of his hands against Jisung’s chest increases again. He shoves, but when Jisung stumbles back towards the shelter’s entrance, his grip on Seungmin’s bag means Seungmin stumbles forward with him, and they’re back to square one.

“Let go, you fucking barnacle,” Seungmin hisses, trying in vain to shake Jisung off.

“Necessary evil,” Jisung echoes himself with more glee than should probably be allowed. 

Seungmin groans. “But I was here _first_.” 

“Okay, and? It’s fucking _cold_ out there.” Jisung shudders, his hair still dripping down his back, his shirt still plastered uncomfortably to his skin. “As long as we both fit in here, I don’t see the problem.”

“The problem is that I’m wet now too,” Seungmin whines. “Even though I was smart enough to get here _before_ the rain started.”

“Boo,” Jisung says, tightening his grip on Seungmin even as he twists back and forth in a futile attempt to free himself. “So it’s _my_ fault I had to stay late and get soaked?”

“Yes! You get it! Now get _off_ me.” Seungmin returns to trying to push Jisung away, because it worked _swimmingly_ the first time.

“Absolutely not,” Jisung pouts. “I can’t afford to get sick again. I’ve already had too many sick days.”

“I don’t see why I should have to suffer too, just because you have a weak immune system,” Seungmin retorts, but the force behind his hands seems to lessen ever so slightly. 

“Because you’re my wonderful, amazing, beautiful friend who knows that sometimes love means making sacrifices?” Jisung tries, surging forward to plant a quick kiss on Seungmin’s cheek before he can protest, because why pass up such a golden opportunity?

“Gross,” Seungmin stutters out for the second time, the color returning to his cheeks even as his glare intensifies. “Try again.”

“Fine,” Jisung sighs. “Because the universe is dark and cruel and put me on this Earth _just_ to make your life miserable.”

“Yeah, that sounds more right,” Seungmin begrudges. 

“But you love me anyway,” Jisung coos, trying for another kiss, on the other cheek this time. Seungmin manages to duck out of the way, but before Jisung has a chance to be disappointed, he hears the telltale slosh of tires through puddles. “The bus!” 

“Fucking finally!” Seungmin cheers, and this time when he shoves Jisung away, Jisung goes freely. He lets the straps of Seungmin’s bag go and spins out into the rain, grinning even as the onslaught soaks him all over again, because when the bus rolls to a stop, he’s closer. He bounds on and snags the best available seat, leaving Seungmin to take the one beside him, sandwiched between a human puddle and the cold metal wall.

And even though he’s drenched and starting to shiver, and the midlife crisis across the isle from him is _hardcore_ judging him (which, to be fair, isn’t really her place, but that’s not of _his_ business) he grins as Seungmin claims the seat. After all, it’s not entirely bad, is it?

2\. “Jisung, I’m going to fucking _kill_ you.”

Jisung has Seungmin pinned on the couch, legs trapped between his thighs, his arms circling Seungmin’s shoulders, hands clutching the back of his shirt, when he realizes that _maybe_ this wasn’t the best plan after all. 

How did he get here? Well, it was all thanks to a one Hwang Hyunjin. 

Just ten minutes ago Jisung was having a grand old time in the kitchen, eating blueberries straight out of the container, wondering whether the entire known universe might really be a bunch of 2D information stored just beyond the event horizon of a giant black hole, skipping through his playlist to get to that _one_ song that’s really been buttering his toast lately. You know, normal stuff. Enter the culprit. 

Hyunjin saunters up to him like he’s the hottest shit in town, and Jisung would complain, but before Hyunjin even says anything, he slides a coupon for Jisung and Woojin’s favorite chicken place across the counter like it’s a briefcase filled with cash and they’re at the end of a shady deal in the back of a game parlor. “I need your help,” he says seriously, tapping the coupon with two fingers. 

Jisung raises an eyebrow.

“There’s something I need to check on Seungmin’s phone,” he continues, as if this explains everything.

Jisung makes a point of plucking another blueberry out of the container and chewing it as slowly as possible without looking like one of the sloths from _Zootopia_. He waves his hand a little to get Hyunjin to go on.

“But I don’t know the passcode anymore since he changed it last time he caught me snooping.”

Jisung nods. “And you need me for . . . what, exactly?”

“I need you to distract him so I can snatch his phone while it’s still unlocked,” Hyunjin explains, lowering his voice as he glances towards the common room where Seungmin is curled up on the couch. 

“Hmm.” Jisung taps his chin, following Hyunjin’s line of sight to their unsuspecting friend. “Is this coupon all I get out of it?”

Hyunjin lets out a world weary sigh, as if he’d been expecting this but had still hoped it wouldn’t happen. “I can get you two more.”

Jisung considers this. “How mad is Seungmin gonna be, though?”

Hyunjin shrugs. “Depends on whether he figures out what I’m snooping on.”

“What _are_ you snooping on?” Jisung asks, turning back to Hyunjin just in time to see him look away, as if the wall behind Jisung’s head is suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. Like _that_ isn’t suspicious. 

“Confidential,” Hyunjin says, and _yeah_ , there’s _definitely_ something shady going on.

“I don’t know,” Jisung hums. “It seems like the risk isn’t worth the reward.”

Hyunjin lets out another deep-suffering sigh. “I’ll pick up all your cleaning duties for a week.”

Jisung’s face splits into a grin. He reaches across the counter to clap Hyunjin’s shoulder. “Man, you should have lead with that!”

“So you’re in?” Hyunjin’s eyes are suddenly bright with mischief. 

“Yeah. Just tell me the plan, baby.”

The plan is this: Jisung will distract Seungmin (his choice how) and get him to abandon his phone without locking it first so Hyunjin can sneak around the back of the couch, retrieve it, and then book it to the nearest lockable door. That’s it. Sounds simple enough. Except it isn’t.

“Hey,” Jisung says as he throws himself down onto the couch one whole cushion away from Seungmin. Seungmin grunts in response, barely glancing up from his phone. A great start. 

“I’m gonna put something on, is that cool?” He asks, scooting a little closer under the pretense of getting the TV remote.

“Knock yourself out,” Seungmin says dryly, eyes still glued to his phone.

Jisung can practically feel Hyunjin’s eyes on the back of his head, urging him to hurry things up. But he’s a patient guy. He likes to take his time. As the TV powers up, he glances sideways at Seungmin, who has started typing away furiously, like a college student who waited until two hours before their paper was due to start it. 

“I’ve been thinking about dyeing my hair blue,” Jisung says casually, still side-eyeing Seungmin to see if he reacts.

“That’s nice,” Seungmin mutters. Then he pauses, fingers stilling on the keypad. “Wait, what?”

Jisung grins, opens the YouTube app on the television. “I said I’ve been thinking about dyeing my hair blue.”

Seungmin is silent for a long moment. “Uh,” he starts eloquently, “why?”

Jisung selects the search bar and starts diligently scrolling through the letters to find the ones he wants. “For fun. Plain old brown just gets boring after a while, y’know?” He finishes spelling the last word and hovers over the first suggested video. “Plus I think I’d look hot.” He presses play.

“Fuck!” Seungmin jumps when the song starts, the speakers still cranked up from the movie they’d all watched the night before. He drops his phone into his lap and finally turns to Jisung. “Can you turn that _down_?”

“What was that?” Jisung mock shouts over the first verse of _Wee Woo_ as it pounds through the fancy speaker system Changbin had bought “as a communal gift for the house” over the holidays (he bought them for himself, really, just needed an excuse to justify the whopping price tag). 

“ _Turn it down!_ ” Seungmin repeats himself loudly, looking very displeased. 

Jisung grins as wide as he can, like the evil little shit that he has to be for this to work. “You want it louder?” 

All it takes is a few taps of the _+_ volume button for Seungmin to shoot him an absolutely _scathing_ glare and launch himself from his spot on the couch to tackle Jisung on the other side. He reaches for the remote, but Jisung is faster, and shoves it into the dark space between the cushion and the arm of the couch. When Seungmin dives after it, Jisung twists and pounces. 

He gets Seungmin underneath him, and when Seungmin realizes what’s happening and scrambles to get away, Jisung locks his legs on either side of Seungmin’s thighs so he’s trapped by Jisung’s weight on top of him. Then come his arms, which, if left unattended to, will surely come up to swat at Jisung like the annoying little fly he is. So Jisung grabs both of Seungmin’s hands and shoves them down to his sides, then wraps his own arms around Seungmin so he can’t wriggle free. All the while, Hyunjin is coming around the couch, snatching Seungmin’s open phone, and laughing gleefully, alerting Seungmin to exactly what’s going on. 

This is where the, _“Jisung, I’m going to fucking kill you!”_ comes in. Seungmin shouts a string of curses Jisung won’t repeat for propriety's sake while Hyunjin skitters down the hallway like a spider fleeing to his nest. Then, “Get the _fuck_ off me!”

When Jisung doesn’t move an inch, Seungmin takes matters into his own hands. And by matters, he means Jisung’s thighs. _This_ is the part where the regret starts to sink in.

Jisung’s eyes go wide and now it’s Seungmin’s turn to grin like an evil little shit because _everyone_ in the house knows Jisung’s thighs are sensitive as all hell, and right now Seungmin isn’t above exploiting that. It’s not like Jisung doesn’t have it coming. Seungmin digs his fingers in just enough to get Jisung to squirm a little, drags his hands down to Jisung’s knees and then all the way up to his hips and squeezes. Jisung bites back half a laugh and half a cry and his resolve crumbles like cheap pie crust. _Sorry Hyunjin_ , _sorry discounted chicken_ , he thinks. He’s weak. He’s not going to survive being tickled much longer.

Seungmin’s hands jump from Jisung’s hips to his waist and a strangled noise - much like that of a cat whose tail has just been yanked - is wrenched from Jisung’s throat. Seungmin laughs (not his nice, pretty laugh, but his ‘payback bitch’ laugh) and applies pressure. Jisung bites his lower lip to keep another uncouth sound in, but when Seungmin’s fingers dance in across his stomach, it’s all over. He squeals, high and loud, and goes loose enough that Seungmin is finally able to free his arms completely. 

To celebrate his success, Seungmin’s hands move up Jisung’s chest, not to torture him any more, but to shove him clear off his lap. And the couch. Jisung hits the floor with a thud, though the sound is swallowed by the bass in _Get It_ , which autoplayed when _Wee Woo_ ended. He lays there on the carpeted floor and listens to Seungmin thunder down the hallway after Hyunjin. Then there’s a series of bangs, followed by a tremendous crashing sound, loud enough for him to hear over the music, and he knows Seungmin has caught Hyunjin, and the act is blown. 

He heaves out a deep breath and closes his eyes. The floor is actually quite comfortable, and the song is as good as it’s always been. He finds himself grinning. Even if Hyunjin got busted in the end, the mission wasn’t a total failure, now was it? 

All in a day’s work, he thinks to himself, folding his hands together over his stomach (which _definitely_ isn’t still tingling). All in a day’s work.

3\. To make up for the phone incident (and also because he’s been craving sugar like _crazy_ the last few days), Jisung decides to try and bake Seungmin an apology cake. Key word: _try_. 

Usually he can pass as a decent baker thanks to Felix’s help (it’s pretty much only when he hears his own ideas come out of Felix’s mouth that he realizes how bad they are and can subsequently avoid carrying them out) or, if he’s lucky, Woojin or Jeongin will take pity on him and do two thirds of the work themselves. They may be the oldest and youngest of their ragtag group of strays, but they’re the only ones with a lick of sense. However, the three of them are all out seeing some new movie now because Woojin’s too soft on Felix to say no to him half the time, and Jeongin sticks to Felix like a lost kitten pretty much constantly, so it was only natural he went along for the ride. So Jisung is alone, trying his best to make this cake, but the batter clearly doesn’t care what his best it, because it is _not_ cooperating at all.

“Jesus fuck can you just dizzolve already or something?” Jisung curses out the clumps of flour and sugar that refuse to mix into the batter. It’s been two whole minutes and they’re _still_ there, sitting pretty. It’s driving him absolutely crazy. Sure, his arm is gonna be fucking _jacked_ from trying to blend them in, but at the cost of his sanity, is it really worth it? He doesn’t think so.

Another minute of mixing down and there are _still_ clumps, and Jisung starts to wonder why he was put on this Earth just to suffer. He’s _sweating_ for fucks sake. But he _won’t_ be defeated by a fucking cake. Nope. Not today. He drops the whisk and steps back so he can safely peel his hoodie over his head. It’s time to get serious.

“You think you can beat me, huh?” He glares down at the beige mush in the mixing bowl with renewed fervor and cracks his knuckles. He’s not going down without a fight.

When Seungmin walks into the kitchen five minutes later, Jisung isn’t proud of how he finds him.

“Um.” Seungmin freezes as he takes in the sight of the kitchen. The cake ingredients are spread haphazardly across the counter, and the mixing bowl - which was clean, clear glass when Jisung started - is coated side to side entirely in batter, some of it dripping from the lip down the outside to form a small puddle of goo below the rim. But Jisung takes the cake (pun intended). He’s sprawled spread eagle out on the kitchen floor, half-hard batter clinging to his hands and forehead. He’s also letting out a long, dragging groan, as if his soul is slowly been exorcised from his body. 

“Put me out of my misery, please,” he begs, eyes briefly leaving the ceiling to land on Seungmin. 

Seungmin can do nothing but blink and stare. “What . . . happened?” He asks cautiously, eyeing the kitchen like it’s a crime scene.

“I couldn’t fucking mix the batter,” Jisung mumbles, realizing how foolish it sounds now that Seungmin is here.

“Did you use the box mix?”

Jisung goes ridgid, eyes widening enough to fit a galaxy or two inside. “The _what_?”

“The box mix?” Seungmin repeats. “Chan always keeps a few stocked in the cupboard to avoid . . . _this_.” 

“He _does_?” Jisung yells, bolting upright. “So why have I been making them from scratch all this fucking time?”

Seungmin shrugs. “Have you never seen them? It’s not like they’re hiding in there.”

Jisung drops his head into his (dirty) hands and honest to God _wails_ . “I don’t _deserve_ this! I’m a good person!”

Seungmin snorts and turns on his heel, walking right back out of the room. Jisung thinks _that’s it_ , he’s done for, until Seungmin returns a moment later with a box of cake mix in hand. “Maybe if you could see above the third shelf you would’ve found them ages ago, dummy.” He tosses the box to Jisung and turns to leave again, and this is when Jisung decides that desperate times call for desperate measures. 

Jisung catches the box and sets it down on the ground in one swift motion, then launches himself at Seungmin before the other boy can leave. He throws his arms around Seungmin’s middle and presses his chest flat against Seungmin’s back. “Wait, don’t leave,” he whines as Seungmin goes stock still against him. “Help _me_ .” He draws out the _me_ for at least two seconds. An eternity for one short word. 

“Pass,” Seungmin says quickly, trying to make a break for it, but Jisung just squeezes him tighter, holding him in place.

“ _Please_ ,” he tries again, pushing up onto his tiptoes and resting his chin on Seungmin’s shoulder. “Just with the mixing. I’ll clean everything up.” 

Seungmin doesn’t say anything for a moment, but he makes no move to walk away again.

“ _Please_?” And Jisung can feel it in Seungmin’s body the moment he gives in. He relaxes against Jisung and sighs.

“Fine,” he concedes. “ _Only_ if you clean.”

“Thank you!” Jisung all but squeals. He presses a quick kiss to Seungmin’s cheek and then makes a hasty retreat when Seungmin grabs his hands, detaches them from where they’re clasped around his middle, and tries to push him back. 

“Stop that,” Seungmin says as he turns to swat at Jisung, but there’s no bite to his words. “And wash your hands. They’re sticky as hell.”

Jisung raises his eyebrows suggestively, because Seungmin walked right into that one, honestly, and why pass up an opportunity to make Seungmin flush a pretty light pink? Seungmin processes the look for a moment before it dawns on him and he groans loudly, looking like he’s praying for an asteroid to strike the Earth and end his suffering. “Shut _up_.” He sounds annoyed, but there’s that telltale blush creeping up his cheeks. Jisung grins. Even as Seungmin pushes him towards the sink while he picks up the cake box off the floor, even though he’ll have a grand old mess to clean up once the cake is in the oven, the grin remains glued to Jisung’s face. 

With clean, dry hands, Jisung joins Seungmin by a fresh mixing bowl as he pours in the powder. He sneaks another kiss against Seungmin’s cheek, just for fun this time, and Seungmin hurriedly shoves him away again, but the pink in his cheeks deepens, and he has to bite his lip to keep from smiling. It’s a win in Jisung’s book. 

4\. Saturday night. Approximately eight-thirty. Jisung has a bowl of popcorn in his lap, is snuggled up comfortably on the couch between Seungmin and Hyunjin, all ready for their movie night, when they break the news. It’s Jeongin’s week to pick the movie, and he picked the new(ish) _Jurassic World_ one. Knowing _full_ well how much Jisung does _not_ fuck with dinosaurs. 

“You _what_?” He shrieks at Jeongin, who shrinks back to hide half of himself behind Chan.

“I really wanna see it,” he says softly, and _fuck!_ Jisung can’t stay mad at him.

He lets his head fall back against the pillows and sighs deeply enough that everyone in the room can hear _just_ how disappointed he is. But, “I guess that’s fine,” he groans, pulling his head back up so he can accurately aim a popcorn kernel at Jeongin. Despite his best efforts, the kernel hits Chan instead. 

“Jisung,” he chides, sounding more tired than annoyed, “what have I said about throwing popcorn during movies?”

Jisung makes a face and looks pointedly away from Chan. “That if you do it you have to vacuum in the morning,” he grumbles.

“What was that?” Minho asks from beside Chan, and Jisung can _hear_ the cheeky grin in his voice. 

“I have to vacuum tomorrow, I know!” Jisung says louder to get them both off his case because _damn,_ is it that serious? It was one kernel. “Now can we just start this cursed movie and get it over with?”

“Yeah! Start it, Chan!” Jeongin claps his hands together excitedly and Jisung kind of hates him for being so adorable. Not as much as he loves his dumb ass though.

And so, the movie starts. For a little while it’s fine. Jisung doesn’t know what he was so worried about. He relaxes back into the couch, pulls his blanket up to his stomach and munches on his popcorn. And then, all of a sudden, it’s very _not_ fine. 

“Fuck!” He hisses loudly, flinching away from the screen and leaning into Seungmin’s side. Maybe he should have put up more of a fight about this movie. Seungmin shushes him and moves the popcorn over into his own lap. Probably to avoid any spills (it wouldn’t be the first time). Jisung stays there, all tense muscles and half-closed eyes until the scene finally changes to something much safer, and he can scoot back to his original spot on the couch. 

It’s okay again for a while, and Jisung is lulled back into a false calm. He goes back to sneaking popcorn from Seungmin’s bowl, glancing around the room when the screen lights up. Woojin and Felix are in the beanbag on the floor, Felix curled up entirely on Woojin’s lap like some kind of tiny kitten. In the loveseat next to the couch, Chan has Jeongin nestled against him on one side and Minho on the other, an arm around Jeongin and both Minho’s legs splayed across his thighs. To Jisung’s right, Hyunjin and Changbin have been cuddling since before the movie even started. The whole sight is kind of cute. It’s also kind of gross. But it’s definitely better than dinosaurs, so he won’t complain. 

Jisung turns back to the movie and tunes into the plot once more, and for a minute he almost starts to think that the people are scarier than the dinosaurs after all. But one jump scare later, he’s letting out a small screech, cursing whoever thought that the first movie needed a sequel, and burying his face in Seungmin’s shoulder. 

“Off,” Seungmin whispers after a moment, because he’s a firm believer in silence during movies. “It’s not on screen anymore.”

Jisung peeks at the TV over Seungmin’s shoulder, and when he does indeed find it dino-free, peels himself off of Seungmin. This time he doesn’t let the movie trick him into thinking he’ll be safe. He pulls the blanket up to his chin and makes himself as small as possible, so he can duck away the next time they throw a pair of creepy, beady eyes and a set of sharp ass teeth at him. He watches the next section through narrowed eyes, his body fully tensed, ready to flee at the next sign of danger because there’s no way in hell you could ever catch him fighting a fucking dinosaur. 

And shit, when it’s nearing the end of the movie he can tell _something_ is about to go down, but he doesn’t know _what_ until it happens. It’s a good fucking thing Seungmin moved the popcorn away from him, because if it’d still been in his lap he’d have a hell of a lot more to vacuum up in the morning. He gets jump scared _again,_ and honest to God shrieks, his whole body jerking back so violently he’s amazed he doesn’t hurt himself. The Indoraptor begins it’s rampage and he kicks his legs out, wails, and gives up. He can’t watch this anymore. He pulls his knees back up his chest and tucks into Seungmin’s side, squeezing his eyes shut so he can only _hear_ the terror of the movie. 

Seungmin tenses under him for a moment, and Jisung, afraid he’s going to make him move away, bumps his forehead lightly against Seungmin’s neck, silently asking him not to. The moment passes, and Seungmin relaxes, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t flick Jisung or nudge him back. He lets him stay. 

Jisung doesn’t get to celebrate this small victory, though, because he can still hear what’s happening, and when he makes the mistake of peeking at the screen again, his blood runs cold. He lets out a small, pathetic cry as he starts to tremble lightly under his blanket, wondering why Jeongin wants him to have nightmares for the next three weeks. A loud crash like breaking glass comes through the speakers, a woman screams, and _seriously, what the fuck is wrong with Jeongin for picking this damn movie?_

Jisung peeks _again_ because he’s the biggest fool alive, and apparently temptation is stronger than stomach-churning fear, and whimpers into Seungmin’s shoulder when he’s greeted by dark, shining scales and wicked, gleaming teeth. 

He buries his face in Seungmin’s neck and swears he won’t look again, especially when the dinosaur roars loud enough to shake Jisung down to his bones. Another soft whimper slips from him and he has become one solid mass of tension and fear against Seungmin’s side. Then, as screams tear through the speakers, Seungmin silently slips his hand into Jisung’s and squeezes gently. Some of the tension eases from him, and Jisung is quick to squeeze back, even if his fingers tremble when he does. He has enough in him for a silent _thank you_ , no matter how scared he is. 

For a few long minutes, the roaring continues, and Jisung clutches tight to Seungmin, breath hitching every time there’s a burst of sound, every time Seungmin’s thumb runs gently across his knuckles. At the loud shattering of glass, Seungmin leans in to him and murmurs, “I think that’s the end of it. The big one is dead now.”

Jisung nods against his shoulder, but waits a little longer still. He’s been burned by the movie too many times tonight to trust it again. When he finally peels his eyes open and peers at the screen, he finds it full of dinosaurs, but none are snarling or swiping claws at anyone, so he lets out a breath. It isn’t until the movie finally ends for good and the credits start to roll that the tension begins to bleed from his body, though. This, however, is also Seungmin’s cue.

Seungmin slips his hand back out of Jisung’s and wipes it on his pants (yeah, Jisung has sweaty palms, sue him. He was scared!). Seungmin then proceeds to push Jisung away, back to the spot he had started in, because, “The movie’s over, scaredy-cat.” But despite the teasing lilt to his voice, his hands are gentle on Jisung’s arm and on his waist. Jisung’s soft smile is lost to the darkness of the room, but he has a feeling Seungmin doesn’t need to see it to know that it’s there. And even if he then turns to curse out Jeongin for putting him through two and a half hours of hell on Earth, Jisung goes to bed feeling light and safe that night. And he dreams, but not of dinosaurs. 

5\. On one of the rare days that everyone’s schedule comes up empty, the nine of them file in a chaotic mass out into the street and walk to the park down the road. Nights together are one thing: everyone piled together in the lounge after a long day, settling down for a movie. Afternoons are completely different. Under the sun and not yet drained from activities and work, they all run wild. 

At first, the nine of them scramble around the expanse of grass and wood chips and artificial ground without any rhyme or reason. From the swings to the spinning devils that are _definitely_ a safety hazard to the little kids the park was designed for, Jisung bounces between Felix and Hyunjin as they all try to defy physics with increasingly dangerous stunts. When he peels off from them and gets to the jungle gym, Jisung finds Minho hanging upside down and Changbin poking dangerously at his stomach, making Minho squeal furiously and hoist himself back up so he can jump down without hurting himself. As Jisung stretches to catch the bars, he watches Changbin shriek with delight and race off, Minho hot on his heels. 

From his newfound vantage point sitting at the top of the bars, Jisung can see Jeongin climbing the small rock wall across the way, almost level with Woojin, who’s already perched casually at the top. Chan’s on the ground, below them, swatting playfully at Jeongin’s feet. Jisung casts his eyes out across the rest of the park, not sure what he’s looking for until he finally sees Seungmin. He’s standing in the grass, tossing a stray ball back and forth with Felix while Hyunjin tries in vain to snatch it out of the air in between them. They’re all laughing - Jisung can’t hear it, but the wide smiles splitting their faces is enough of a tell. 

After maneuvering his body so he can lay across the rungs of the structure, Jisung folds his hands under his chin and is content to remain there, watching his friends fuck around and let loose. 

A small smile works its way onto his face when a deathly scream echoes from the tube slide just a ways away from the small rock wall, and a moment later, Changbin and Minho emerge at the bottom. Minho has finally caught the little rascal, and they crash to the ground together, Minho’s arms and legs wrapped around Changbin, keeping him from escaping again. The scream draws Chan’s attention, and he abandons the rock wall to investigate. Jisung watches realization dawn on him. He also watching him bust out laughing like it’s the funniest thing in the world, seeing Minho half-tickle, half-strangle Changbin as punishment for teasing him. 

In the grass, not too far off, Felix is distracted by the commotion long enough for Hyunjin to snag the ball out of the air and bolt with it. Seungmin shouts loud enough for even Jisung to hear loud and clear, and when Felix realizes what has happened, he and Seungmin take off together after Hyunjin. And then Jisung can’t resist joining the fun. 

Vaulting down from the jungle gym, he only stumbles a bit before his feet steady and he can race towards the rest of them. Seungmin notices him running at them headlong, and waves his arm. “Box him in!” He yells, arm pointing forward to the fleeing Hyunjin. 

“Already on it!” Jisung shouts back.

Hyunjin’s eyes go wide and he curves sharply to his right, veering off in the direction of the rock wall in a last ditch attempt to escape. Jisung and Seungmin close in, flanking him, while Felix opts to swing around the back of the structure in case Hyunjin slips past the other two. When Hyunjin skids on the wood chips, Jisung thinks that maybe they’ll really be able to catch him. 

Just when he and Seungmin are about to go in for the kill though, Woojin leaps down from the rock wall without warning and snatches Hyunjin up in his arms before either of them can do it themselves. Hyunjin wails like a banshee, and Jeongin drops down as well, plucking the ball from his grasp, victorious. 

Jisung and Seungmin stop so abruptly they almost ram into each other. “Hey,” Jisung whines, “I _ran_ for that. How could you steal my glory?”

Woojin just laughs, still holding Hyunjin like he’s little more than a ragdoll. “Maybe if you were faster,” is all he danes to say.

Jisung’s chest heaves from the exertion, but he frowns nevertheless. “ _Sure_ . Maybe if you hadn’t cheated.” Then, under his breath, “ _Old man_.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Woojin asks innocently, already moving to set Hyunjin down like he has a new target in mind. Jisung does _not_ like where this is going. He glances warily over at Seungmin, who’s looking at him like he’s already a dead man.

“He said _old man_ ,” Hyunjin supplies cheerfully, now standing on solid ground again. He sends Jisung a cheeky grin.

Jisung blanches as Woojin’s eyes narrow down at him. A hand hits his shoulder, shoving him away. “Run, you idiot!”

Seungmin doesn’t need to tell him twice. Jisung takes off, skittering across the wood chips like his life depends on it. He bolts past Chan, somehow still laughing his ass off, and Changbin and Minho, still rolling around on the ground together. The sound of Hyunjin’s vengeful cackling fades to the rush of blood in Jisung’s ears, and he doesn’t dare look back to see how close Woojin is getting. He pulls a wide loop around the park until the stitch in his side feels almost lethal. 

Only when he thinks he’s finally going to collapse and give in to his fate does Felix appear like a shining golden angel (if angels were allowed to jump at humans like Jisung hears Felix do as he runs past). A strangled should comes from behind him, and Jisung surmises that Felix has thrown himself in Woojin’s way, either trapping him in his arms or forcing Woojin to catch him so they aren’t both knocked to the ground. Regardless of what he’s done, the interruption distracts Woojin and gives Jisung just the chance he needs to run and hide. He heads for the nearest thing - the climbing structure that leads up to the tube slide - and scales the side so he can slip his body into the slide and disappear from sight. 

It’s all well and good until, after a minute of quiet, panicked breathing, he hears footsteps pinging on the metal. Jisung assumes the worst: Woojin has killed Felix and is coming for him next. And if Woojin could kill even his (unspoken, but widely known) favorite of them all, who _knows_ what he’ll do to Jisung. 

Except the shoes that come into view aren’t Woojin’s black sneakers. A breath of relief rushes out of Jisung when Seungmin squats down into view.

“Is Woojin still out there?” He whispers.

Seungmin glances away to something Jisung can’t hope to see. He nods. 

Jisung lets out a garbled groan. “I’m so screwed.”

Seungmin looks a little sorry, but purses his lips and nods again. 

Jisung’s legs start to cramp from his awkward position in the slide. “What happened to Felix? Is he still alive?”

“Of course, dummy,” Seungmin laughs lightly. “Woojin kissed him and he gave up in like two seconds. It was kinda funny.”

“On the lips?” Jisung squeaks.

Seungmin snorts, looking very much like he’s trying his best not to roll his eyes. “I’m not even gonna answer that.”

Jisung pouts. “I can’t believe he betrayed me for kisses.” He looks up at Seungmin despite the crick in his neck. “At least I still have you.”

At this, Seungmin’s face twitches. “Yeah,” he says slowly, “about that.”

Jisung’s heart sinks. “No,” he breathes. “Not you too?”

Seungmin shrugs, part apologetic and part shameless. “Sorry. It’s chicken night and he said he’d get me extra.”

“You’re saying I’m worth less than chicken?” 

“You think I forgot about Hyunjin buying you off to help him break into my phone with … what was it again?” Seungmin’s eyebrows are raised and he’s definitely not sorry anymore.

Jisung sighs like the weight of the world is on his chest. Seungmin’s got him beat. “Chicken coupons,” he mumbles.

“What was that?” Seungmin asks again, smug.

“Chicken coupons!” Jisung wails loudly as Seungmin finally ends the game by dislodging him from his spot and pushing him down the slide. As the old plastic screeches along with him, Jisung can already hear Woojin’s laughter awaiting him at the bottom. But he can also still hear Seungmin laughing at the top of the slide, and it kind of makes the whole thing a lot less terrible. Just before he emerges into the sunlight and falls into Woojin’s vengeful hands, Jisung makes peace with his fate. There are worse ways to go, right? As long as Seungmin’s pretty laughter is the last thing he hears, he supposes it’ll all be worth it. 

\+ 1. Jisung does, in fact, _not_ die that day at the park. Staring at the blinking cursor on his laptop, though, he starts to wish he had. It’s been, what, an hour since he sat down to work? And all he has to show for his efforts is three measly chunks of text, turning hazy from how long he’s been looking at the computer screen without blinking. He’d tried writing to instrumentals, to that funky low-fi stuff that’s supposed to increase brain waves, tried writing in utter silence, but nothing seems to be working. 

Twenty minutes ago he was so frustrated he could pull out his own hair. Now he’s just exhausted. The room is quiet, empty other than him. Everyone else is out or in their rooms, enjoying the night instead of suffering like he is. Briefly, he curses himself for turning down Changbin’s offers to help, for ignoring Chan’s sidelong glances while he ate dinner at the table across from him, before Jisung picked up and moved to the couch, hoping a change of scenery could restart his brain. But no, he said he could do this on his own, and he _can_. It’s just taking longer than usual to get things flowing. He knocks his knuckles against his forehead and squeezes his eyes shut. When he opens them again, he dives back in. 

Barely ten minutes later, his frustration has returned to dance side by side with his exhaustion, doing a taunting little jig in his head, which is apparently completely devoid of any and all critical thought. He throws his head back against the couch cushions and groans loudly. He’d scream if it wouldn’t scare half the people in the house to death. 

“Someone needs to fucking deck me,” he says to the empty room. “Kickstart my bitchass brain. Knock me the fuck out. _Please_.”

A soft giggle breaks the brief silence that follows his words. Jisung whips around quickly, slightly panicked. Only murders are crazy enough to _giggle._ But then his eyes land on a tired, rumpled Seungmin, and all thoughts of creeps and danger flee from his mind. Giggling is the cutest thing in the world, he decides as he takes in the sight of Seungmin’s brown hair curling in complete disarray atop his head, falling half in his eyes. Seungmin’s white tee is wrinkled and hangs low over soft checkered pajama pants. He crosses the floor slowly and sets himself down on the arm of the couch near Jisung. 

“If I knock you out you won’t be able to work anymore,” he says lightly, eyeing the computer resting on Jisung’s lap.

“I guess,” Jisung hums. “Maybe just deck me without knocking me out. Just enough to get my brain working again.”

Seungmin laughs again, small but bubbling. “If that’s what you really want.” He raises an arm and Jisung’s life preserving instincts finally kick in at the sight. 

“Wait wait wait,” he squeals, throwing his own arms up to block his head. “Do it gently!”

Another soft giggle falls from Seungmin’s lips and then Jisung feels his hands curling gently around his wrists, pulling them down from his face. Seungmin is much closer than he was before, and Jisung’s eyes go a little wide with wonder at the smooth lines of his face, the warmth in his pretty brown eyes, the curve of his pink lips. Seungmin makes no move to lift his hand again to knock Jisung’s head, and instead leans in carefully and presses a light kiss to his forehead. Jisung’s breath catches in his throat. 

“Like that?” He asks fondly. His breath is warm where it fans out against Jisung’s skin, and it smells like children’s strawberry toothpaste. Their stock of proper adult mint must have finally run out. 

Jisung nods, mute. Seungmin’s hands are still wrapped loosely around his wrists. 

Another small smile graces Seungmin’s face, reassuring him. “You’re smart Jisung, you have the perfect brains for this kind of stuff,” he says, nodding down at the laptop, “I’m sure it’ll come to you eventually, just some other time. Maybe call it a night now. You can always tackle it again in the morning.”

As if Seungmin’s words are laced with just a little bit of magic, the screen of the computer falls dark from disuse before Jisung can even think to protest. “I guess,” he mumbles, freeing one of his hands to close the laptop and set it down across the couch. When he turns back, Seungmin lets his other wrist go too, only to take his hand instead. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he says, tapping Jisung’s nose lightly and making him go cross-eyed before his other hand settles on Jisung’s shoulder. “The world isn’t gonna end if you don’t have it in you every day. You always bounce back eventually, right? That’s just part of life.” He smiles again, and Jisung swears he’s glowing in the low light. 

Under normal circumstances, Jisung would argue that _yes, the world might very well end if he doesn’t meet his own expectations,_ but Seungmin looks so sure, like he’s glimpsed the very secrets of the universe and holds not a shred of doubt in his body, that Jisung can’t find the words to disagree. All he can do is stare up at Seungmin’s face, caught in his shining eyes, mesmerized. 

The look must get lost in translation because Seungmin’s eyes crinkle in amusement, and with a teasing lilt to his voice, he says, “Nod if you’re still in there.” Jisung nods dumbly, and Seungmin’s eyes crinkle even deeper. “You’re cute,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss Jisung’s forehead again. 

Jisung feels his cheeks flush a deep pink and he raises a needy hand to clutch at the front of Seungmin’s shirt, watching him carefully, a question in his eyes. The smile caught on Seungmin’s lips softens, and he sides down from the arm of the couch onto the cushion next to Jisung in response.

_Is this okay? Are you finally ready?_

_Yes._

Seungmin’s next kiss falls just at the corner of Jisung’s lips. Jisung squeezes his hand, and then Seungmin’s arm wraps carefully around his shoulders and draws him in so they can kiss head on. It’s short, tentative, and breaks off because they’re both smiling too much to hold it. Seungmin pulls back the slightest bit, forehead leaning against Jisung’s. “Thanks for waiting for me,” he says into Jisung’s parted lips. “Sorry it took so long.”

Jisung huffs and places quick kiss to Seungmin’s cupid’s bow. “Time flies,” he says lightly, “Wasn’t any trouble at all.”

Seungmin suppresses the urge to grin again, and squeezes Jisung’s hand before letting it go so he can wrap another arm around him, this time catching his waist. Jisung squirms happily at the feeling and lets Seungmin pull him closer until they’re chest to chest and Jisung is practically in Seungmin’s lap. He sighs, contented, when one of Seungmin’s hands finds its way into his hair and brushes gently through it before settling on the curve of his cheek. He reaches up to rest his fingers against Seungmin’s neck, and strokes lightly at the sensitive, buttery skin there, feeling Seungmin’s pulse jumping just below the surface. It’s incredible. He feels like he’s floating.

Then Seungmin catches him in another kiss, more sure this item, more eager, ready to make up for any of the time they may have lost, and he just about flies away. Nothing else in the world exists but Seungmin’s hands on him and his soft, balmy lips, quickly figuring out how to best fit against Jisung’s. In the quiet of the night, nothing else matters. 

(And if later they break apart to a shriek and a _Fuck yes! Changbin owes me free chicken for a week!_ from Hyunjin when he wanders past on his way to the kitchen for water, well, that doesn’t really matter either. Jisung has Seungmin safe and sound in his arms, and he’s not going anywhere. Everything else is just details.)


End file.
